


It Started with a Whisper

by JustAnotherUnderstudy



Series: This Should Totally Be A Thing [37]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Older Woman/Younger Man, Series, Slow Burn, because canon is stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:39:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherUnderstudy/pseuds/JustAnotherUnderstudy
Summary: “Every story has a beginning and an end. What lies between those two points is the journey.” ― R.C. Richter, Crossing the Rubicon





	It Started with a Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story about how James began a slow burn for his boss.
> 
> Post-Quantum. Obliterates Skyfall, etc, as they should be.
> 
> Title from the Neon Trees song "Everybody Talks," but has nothing to do with it.

James would have loved to have said that it had taken some time to rebuild his working relationship with M, but that would have implied he’d had a positive one with her in the first place. He hadn’t. At least not since he’d blown up that damned embassy.

She had been right, and maybe admitting that is what had taken time. He’d tried to re-earn her confidence and trust in him by diving headlong into his investigation into the information he’d found from the bomb-maker’s phone. He thought he had, but then, he supposed, he’d ruined that by quitting and running off with Vesper Lynd.

And thus began what became a cycle between himself and M, he fucked up, she chastised him, he tried to re-earn her trust. Repeat.

At least, that was how James saw it as he considered the three years he’d been working directly for her.

He should have seen the Tokyo skyline out his hotel window, but even standing in front of the pane, he was blind to it, so lost in his thoughts.

He’d been here less than 24 hours and hoped to finish this assignment quickly and neatly. There really wasn’t much to it, just acquire the information from the mark’s computer system, no death required. He was sure M thought there would be plenty of death and wondered if she wasn’t listening in on the wireless each day just to hear the news about it.

His problem, though, lay not in her reaction to his usual mayhem, even in the year after bringing most of Quantum to a standstill, he hadn’t held back. Instead, it was that he had new information, rather terrifying information to him. He’d discovered, in his snooping after his last wrist slapping, that there had been a verbal altercation between M and a minister while James was in Bolivia.

_James had decided he’d find nothing good in M’s files that night. He’d poured himself a bourbon and hacked into Bill Tanner’s work instead._

_He was mostly amused when he discovered that M had informed Tanner of  James' break in to her flat. Mostly, because she would have had to wait a month since Tanner’d been on medical leave at the time. He wondered if she’d ever bothered to mention it to Villiers. The poor man hadn’t lasted long. Though, to be sure, he hadn’t thought that as an acting Chief of Staff he’d be exposed to so much violence._

_James perused some more. Tanner had returned to work while James was in hospital after Lechiffre’s torture, so there was a month-long overload of information from when the Chief of Staff was overseeing Six while M was on family leave when her husband had suffered a stroke then passed two weeks later. James tried to ignore the pang of guilt at the reminder of how misplaced his anger toward her supposed abandonment of him had been._

_He was growing tired of the meticulously detailed recounting Tanner gave of all of James’ actions when his eyes, now feeling like they were filled with sand, skimmed over a brief detail. He didn’t even register it at first, his mind was numb with the minutia, and he was into the next file before he comprehended what he’d just read. He quickly returned to it and, there, filed neatly with the rest of the accounts of Bond’s actions as he chased after Green, was a brief description Tanner had transcribed from M about a verbal exchange between herself and a minister about James’ behavior. As James read it, he felt the odd sensation of cold fear creep over him._

_He read and re-read it several times before he stopped trying to convince himself he’d misunderstood. The man had threatened Bond, but he’d also threatened her. At least, that’s how it seemed to James._

_James wasn’t sure why that terrified him. No, he didn’t want her dead, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t have a bodyguard—An odd feeling surged through James at the connection he finally made. Fear and anger and something else he couldn’t define all swelled up inside and had the unusual effect of immobilizing him._

_When his phone rang, it made him literally jump out of his chair and spill his drink on the table._

_He swore when he saw the name on the screen. He was usually better at avoiding detection. How could Tanner have caught him when even M never did?_

_He answered it, though, because not answering it would definitely be a sign of guilt._

_“Bond,” he said, trying to sound casual._

_“Bond, yes, M wants you to come in,” Bill said. “There’s some business in Tokyo we need you to see to.”_

At the time, he’d been relieved. He hadn’t been caught. When she’d told him what the assignment entailed, he had worried a small amount, but she’d been open about her reference to him hacking into their system after that fuck up at the embassy.

Now, the fear was no longer worry at her finding out he’d hacked them several times since, it was about the fact that he wasn’t near her and wasn’t sure he could trust her new body guards. 

They were on rotation. That was supposed to keep her safe, having several instead of just one with several alternates. James still didn’t like it. He knew that M and Tanner were even more diligent now about checking everything, but things could be missed. Hell, even after M had Q division revamp their security, James could still hack in. Of course, James had been hacking into systems ever since his aunt had been foolish enough to buy him a computer after he’d watched War Games when he was in school. It was a beneficial skill he’d never bothered to mention to the Navy nor MI6.

Of course, M knew, now, which was why he was in Tokyo. Hacking was not in his skill set so not even anyone back in England would suspect he had anything to do with this if word got out.

He sighed and turned back to his prep work. It really shouldn’t take long. The business M wanted hacked was a small international importing firm that had some unusual activity.

As James considered it, he felt an amused smile come to his face. It was unusual probably only to M. He’d looked over the information and he honestly hadn’t seen it. She’d had to point it out to him. M had a rather peculiar way of looking at things, which was probably how she’d rode into the chair from her job as an analyst.

And there, now, was that undefined feeling coming over him again. He had tried over the past two days to understand it, but the meaning eluded him. He knew it had to do with M, but he noticed it didn’t matter if he was worrying about her or merely thinking about her, that feeling would return. 

Shaking his head, he finished his work, packed his bag, and made his way out onto the street.

There were enough international businesses in this area that James wasn’t too much of a sore thumb. He was fortunate that, though taller than most of the Japanese men he passed, he wasn’t extremely tall. At 178 cm, he was only about 7-8 cm taller than the average Japanese man. He allowed himself a small slouch as he walked to bring it down a little more. There were other white men, far taller than he, that drew greater attention.

He entered the office building and showed his ID to the guard who scanned it and gave him a bow which James returned. Then he was up the lift to the small office MI6 had rented through various channels. There was a small plaque on the door for a Mr. Edison Bradford, Esq., who offered translation of legal documents to small companies or small-time lawyers who couldn’t afford or didn’t need to hire one full-time.

‘James Chancer’ was here to assist Mr. Bradford's business while the man was out of town.  James had given M a wry smile when he’d seen his pseudonym.

_“James Chancer?” he asked. “Really, M, rather telling don’t you think?”_

_M smiled and that was the second time he’d had the feeling he’d associated earlier with fear. It certainly hadn’t been fear in her office, but he couldn’t say what it was._

_“Well, that_ is _a good definition of you, and they’ll not be likely to notice the colloquialism anyway,*” she said. “We can’t be drab and serious all the time, Bond.”_

_She looked back down at the file and continued to read more information to him, but he was no longer listening. He found, instead, that he was studying her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. How had he never noticed the way the way her face softened when she smiled and how her wrinkles fell more naturally into place when she did? As if the serious look she wore at work was a forced one rather that what he’d always thought, her natural self._

_Fortunately, he came to his senses before she noticed._

James sat down at the computer. M had given the agent who ran the office a job for the time James was in town which required the man to be in Taiwan. She hoped that would further assist James’ skills staying off anyone’s radar. The office was quiet, though he could occasionally hear someone pass by in the outer hallway.

There were several offices on this floor, mostly small business lawyers. But the office was swept regularly, and James did just that himself as the office computer booted up. When he found it clear, he began to remove his equipment from his bag. As his own system did a check, he made some tea in the small office kitchenette, then he settled in to work.

It took most of the day to work past the protections that were set up. Not really that excessive for any company in the current climate, so, again, it wouldn’t draw any attention to the average hacker. He would have taken a break for lunch and come back to it, but James felt a sense of urgency about returning home, so he stayed at his station until he was stiff and his back ached.

When he saw it was nearly 1800, he muttered an expletive, then backed out of the system, making sure he left no trace. Tomorrow would be faster since he knew the route in, but he’d really hoped to finish in one day. Unfortunately, as just an assistant, it would look odd if he worked until midnight. So, he packed up his equipment and returned to his hotel.

He picked up an order of omu-udon from a nearby restaurant and headed up to his room. He took off his coat and tie and settled into the small table next to the window to enjoy his meal.

His room was nothing fancy. Two twin beds with a desk, dresser, the usual hotel room fare. He’d stayed in fancier, and he’d slept in worse, this was a comfortable medium.

The view at night showed lights as far as he could see, and he tried to concentrate on them as he ate. M expected him to take nearly a week due to the time constraints, but James knew he could do it more quickly if he could work out some of the configurations in his head tonight. Three days, tops, he promised himself.

* * *

 

James woke with a start. His breaths were shallow, and he was dripping in sweat. His whole body felt as if he’d been running for his life. And he had. In his dream, he’d been chasing Mitchell again. They’d ended up in the same position, only this time, James missed his shot and Mitchell grabbed his gun and fired. James had waited for the pain of the bullet when it struck him, but it didn’t come. Instead, he heard a scream and saw M beside him, blood blooming on her white blouse as she fell away, down to the floor far below them.

He threw off the covers and stumbled into the bathroom to throw water on his face, hoping that would help with his intense feeling of nausea. In the mirror he saw that he was pale and his whole body was shaking. He drank a few sips of water and took some deep breaths before he went back to his room to look at his phone.

There were no calls. If something had happened to M, he was sure he’d have been called. But, just in case, he decided to turn on the news to see if anything had happened. Not that they’d mention the head of MI6 being hurt. James abruptly stood and began to pace the small room, needing to shake off the thought. He felt the need to move, so he changed his clothes and took the lift down to the 24-hour hotel fitness center.

He took to the treadmill first and watched the news on the gym screen as he ran. There was nothing remotely close to home and James felt himself calming down. Finally, after an hour, he felt like he could sleep.

Back in his room, he took a quick shower to wash his sweat off, then settled down under the covers. He used some techniques he’d taught himself over the years to turn his thoughts off after so much activity and found he was soon drifting to sleep. Just before he fell into a deep sleep his mind seemed to question what had bothered him about something that was just a dream. He wasn’t the sort of person to be affected by something that wasn’t real. He only got the faint beginning of an answer before he completely fell asleep. 

_"She died and I never told her.”_


End file.
